Scars and Chains
by Starlight River of Dreams
Summary: Wounds are supposed to heal with tears. Scars are supposed to fade with time...She was born bound in chains. Chains that burned her...The musings of the Hunt's lieutenant. First fanfic. Oneshot.


Another Hunter lost.

She hurled the dagger at the dead stump. It landed with perfect accuracy at the heart of the wood, the blade embedded into the tree. After a few seconds, the enchanted knife shimmered and faded, reappearing once again in her sheath. She drew it out and aimed it at the stump again. The dagger arched through the air before the sharp tip once again met its target, a millimetre away from the previous scratch it inflicted. The cycle continued. She pulled the weapon out and threw it without even a glance at where it landed; although it always landed where she intended it to be. Her eyes were fixed on the stump, but her mind was faraway, away from the clearing where she was currently in, and her muscles only repeated the process out of habit.

She was thinking about the Hunter they had just lost. An event that could be prevented if she had only been more careful. She shouldn't have let any member of her hunting party out of her sight; she shouldn't have been so intent on bringing down the prey that she didn't turn back to check if all of her followers were still there.

She shouldn't have…

She shouldn't have…

Her hand unconsciously groped for the hilt of the knife again, but her fingers found nothing. She blinked, coming out of her reverie. Her eyes focused and she saw the ivory gleam creamy white against the dark wood. A second later, the dagger trembled and the edges blurred. It became transparent and soon she felt the hard, solid handle in her hands again. This time, she didn't throw it. Instead, she stared at the knife, tensed. This weapon had a history, a painful history that was engraved so deeply in her mind that it was impossible to forget.

She ran her fingers along the cold, metal blade, the chill sending a tingle up her fingertips and reaching her heart. The smooth, ivory hilt that she had gripped so many times, both for comfort and for need. She held the weapon out, watching the blade glint dangerously in a river of moonlight, once again admiring its elegant yet deadly charm.

She remembered an earlier time where she had performed the exact same action, but in a different location, as a different person. The memory unlocked a tide of emotions, ones that she had taken such care to trample down and forget. She hastily shoved the knife back into its scabbard, before it could remind her of anything else.

Her gaze was drawn to the sky above. The stars glittered frostily in the dark velvet night, twinkling at the world below. She should be going now, before her absence was noticed with worry.

Her path passed the stump, and she paused. The tree was now scarred, each mark burning deeply in the wood. Scarred, like her heart.

Wounds are supposed to heal with tears. Scars are supposed to fade with time. But she was still scarred, her wounds oozing and deep. Each mistake she made had been thrown back at her, burying itself deep into her heart. Everything that should've happened, that _could've_ happened…

Anger bubbled up; fury so powerful it nearly knocked her over. She aimed a hard kick at the stump, ignoring the throbbing pain in her foot. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she didn't care anymore. Her tough façade fell off in a blast of emotion, and she lashed out at anything in sight. The dead stump of the tree suffered a few savage blows as her foot connected with it, the strength of her whole body behind the aim. She continued in her violent exhibition until she collapsed, her legs trembling so much that she couldn't stand. Her right foot was damaged from her vicious kicks, although her brain still didn't register the pain properly. She was now sobbing so hard she could hardly breathe, a tight band of searing hot iron wrapping itself around her, cutting off her oxygen, burning her from within.

Angry. At herself and at fate. There were so many things she could've prevented. Her mother's death, her friend's destiny, now her fellow sister's demise. If only she had been quicker to slay the monster, if only she hadn't been a coward and hid herself amongst the Hunters to avoid what she could've endured, if only she had been more careful…

She pounded the earth with her fists. She was useless, worthless. The world would've been better if she had never been born. Through her tears, she spotted a glint of silver. The silver circlet of the Hunt's lieutenant. It must've fallen from her head.

She didn't deserve the title of lieutenant; she shouldn't be trusted with the safety and the well-being of all her sisters. More tears flowed down now, rivers trickling down her face, dampening the soil beneath her. Crying was an unusual action she wasn't accustomed to. So the sobs that wracked her body subsided sooner than it might've if she was different. She lay there on the ground for a while, a strange silent calmness inside her, as if the scars were momentarily forgotten. She suddenly noticed her head was tilted in the direction of the stars.

_Stars. _She unexpectedly realized how they were actually in a pattern, not a free arrangement of lights at night. They were bound in an order, grounded into the same path. Chained. Just like her. She was first chained by her parentage, then by the prophecy, now by responsibility. She had thought she was free, like the stars. Free to do anything she wanted, free like the sky. But she wasn't. She was born bound in chains. Chains that burned her, scorching a permanent mark upon her. Ones that will never fade, ones she would carry forever, through life, past death. She could never escape them.

How cruel Fate was. It would never give her a second chance, never an opportunity to erase her mistakes. No, it cursed her to bear the scars of her sins forever.

Her eyes fell to the silver crown on the earth, still glimmering, still strong. Raising a shivering arm, she wiped her tears away, enough so she didn't look like a mess. She reached out to retrieve the head accessory, her fingers curling around the firm metal. As she looked closer, she saw it was also scarred. Scratches etched on the surface. Yet it had stayed strong, for centuries. And it would stay strong for centuries to come. If it could stay strong under the blows the world brought, why couldn't she?

She stared at the circlet for a while longer, before placing it back into her hair. Artemis had trusted her with the responsibility, and it was her job to uphold it. Even though she's scarred for eternity. Even though she was bound in burning chains forever.

_Forever._

**The personality of the character is a bit like Thalia's, the current lieutenant of Artemis, but I know the part of her mother's death is a bit confusing. Sorry about that. Constructive criticism please, and sensible reviews.**


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